


Trouble Will Come

by brilliantbanshee



Series: Trouble [2]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Carlos is a BAMF, Carlos is capabale, Carlos is working through a little trauma but it's fine, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Carlos Reyes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mya is back bitches!, Owen Strand is a Good Dad, The villain gets a little backstory, Worried Owen Strand, Worried TK Strand, and adopts all the young people in his life, if we’re being honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee
Summary: Ever since TK had been caught up in Austin's latest serial bomber's attack, Carlos has thrown himself into looking for the mysterious bomber. He had watched his boyfriend almost die at the hands of this maniac, and he needed to do everything he could to make sure that never happened again. It makes him feel better, helps to counteract the helplessness he felt in that moment.What he didn't expect was to actually find him, and to be trapped with him and a bomb in another abandoned factory. Now he just wants to make it out alive, because he is pretty sure TK will find a way to kill him if he doesn't.---Sequel toTrouble Will Not Take Me
Relationships: Carlos Reyes & Owen Strand, Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Trouble [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844086
Comments: 56
Kudos: 146
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's important to note that this is a sequel to [Trouble Will Not Take Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049117). If you haven't read it this will still make sense, but you should know that it takes place about 2 weeks after the events of the first story. 
> 
> But I decided to write this one because Carlos deserves a multichapter fic and Mya needed some more time to shine.
> 
> Title comes from "This is Not the End" by MILCK

“Wow,” Mya deadpanned as they pulled up to a dilapidated abandoned factory building, “you take me to the nicest places.” 

“Next time we have a serial bomber I’ll be sure to mention to him that he should aim for sites that are more aesthetically pleasing,” Carlos replies drily, already unbuckling his seatbelt. 

“I’m just saying, would it kill us to not have chosen the place on the list most likely to give us tetanus by just looking at it?” 

Carlos merely shrugged in response because honestly, he couldn’t disagree with her. It had been just over two weeks since Austin’s most recent serial bomber made his big splash by blowing up a building with firefighters inside. It had been only been two years since the last bomber and everyone was on edge. The memory was fresh enough that the majority of the police department had been there, had watched the last bombings unfold. To see it happen again didn’t sit well with anyone, especially Carlos. He had vivid memories of the last time, of the fear and uncertainty that had reigned over the city. This time he had his own fears to add to the pile; his own nightmares to haunt his days. It had been the 126 who responded to that call, it had been TK and Marjan trapped inside the last building when it exploded. That had been 15 days ago, and every day since APD had poured a significant amount of its resources into identifying likely targets and patrolling them regularly. Carlos had been volunteering for every shift - this case was personal. 

He still saw TK’s limp and battered body being pulled out of the collapsed building every night when he closed his eyes. The first few nights, when TK had still been in the hospital, he had resisted going home because he knew he wouldn’t sleep anyways. Even now, weeks later, he still had those dreams; still woke up in a cold sweat. Only the presence of TK besides him, soundly sleeping and breathing and _alive_ was enough to calm him. So yeah, maybe he was taking this one a little personally. 

Fortunately, Mya was completely on board. She had been right by his side the entire way: in the waiting room of the hospital, in their sergeant’s office volunteering for extra shifts. He hadn’t even had to ask her. The first day he showed up to work, once TK had finally been out of the woods, she had materialized in front of his desk. “They’re going after this guy,” she had said, “I want in and I am sure you do too.” He had barely had time to nod before she was leading them to the sergeant’s office. 

It was times like this he was so grateful for his partner. She was a force to be reckoned with on a regular day, and she cared just as much about TK as she did for Carlos. To say she was feeling spiteful would be an understatement: “If some asshole bomber thinks they’re going to almost crush my friend to death and get away with it, they’ve got another thing coming,” she had said fiercely. 

Carlos almost felt bad for this mysterious bomber - almost. 

That didn’t change the fact that this was the 12th abandoned building they had checked out this week and while it certainly wasn’t the gnarliest building they had been in, it wasn’t winning any home and garden awards. 

“Just think,” he said as they drew closer, “if we ever decide to give up this whole cop thing, we’ll have a jump start on real estate to enter the haunted house business.” 

“I know you’re joking, but that’s honestly not the worst idea I’ve heard.” 

Carlos shook his head fondly, “You ready to do this, again?”

Mya nodded, “Twelfth time’s the charm, right?” 

“We can only hope,” he muttered as the entered the structure. “Structure” may even be a generous term for it; there didn’t seem to be much standing. They looked around the entry: it appeared to have been a lobby of some sort at one time and it opened up into two diverting hallways. “Looks like we’re splitting up. Do you want left or right?” 

“I’m feeling left today. Be careful though, will you? Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble without your partner to watch your back.” 

“You too. Radio if you find anything?”

“Always.” With a quick salute, Mya was off, disappearing down the hallway to the left. Carlos quickly followed suit and entered the other hallway. It was dark and quiet. He pulled out his flashlight and looked around. It looked like your typical, nondescript, dilapidated hallway - just like the other eleven they had searched that week. 

Still, it warranted a cursory investigation. If only to cross it off the list, to eliminate another possible location. The reigning theory at the precinct currently is that the bomber had been scared off by what had happened with the last bomb. The only casualties of the first four bombs had been the buildings themselves. Never before had there been victims of the bombs, and only luck and talented medical professionals had prevented there from being any fatalities. Normally Carlos would have been grateful and left it at that. But TK had almost died - Carlos had thought he _was_ dead for several heart-stopping moments. He wasn’t over it, and he was bringing that baggage with him. Logically he knew that he should have recused himself from the case, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to be a part of this, he needed to know he had done everything he could to bring this maniac to justice. 

It was coping, he supposed. 

He continued down the hallway, shining his flashlight into the dark corners. He moved carefully, keeping his eyes moving and his ears open. He froze as he heard a sound up ahead. It was probably just an animal, or a piece of the crumbling ceiling falling, but Carlos was still on high alert as he turned the next corner. He frowned when he saw a weak light cutting through the surrounding darkness. He moved towards it. It was a lantern, shining dimly on a makeshift table. The rest of the table was covered with paper and blueprints. Carlos could feel his heart rate increase - this was it. This was the work of the bomber they had been tracking. He went to reach for his radio, to tell Mya that he had found something, to tell her they had the guy and to get here now; but it was then that he realized he had made his first mistake.

“What are you doing here?” a harsh voice behind him demanded.

Carlos froze - hand hovering just above his radio. He slowly turned around to find a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard, wild eyes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a gun pointed at him. He slowly raised his hands up in surrender, even as he cursed at himself. 

He had forgotten to clear the room. He had made a rookie mistake and had let this guy get the drop on him. Now there was a gun pointed at him and he was in deep shit. 

He spoke slowly and evenly, even as his heart thudded in his chest, “My name is Carlos Reyes, I am an officer with the Austin Police department. I was investigating a report of suspicious activity at this location.”

The man continued to glare at him, “Are you here alone?” 

Carlos shook his head, “No, my partner is here too. She’s on the other side of the building.” 

The man didn’t say anything to that, he simply looked around Carlos, towards the table. Carlos cursed himself silently. He had moved the papers and blueprints around; it was clear that he had seen them. The man clearly came to the same conclusion as his expression had grown darker as he looked back at Carlos. There was silence for a few long moments before he spoke, “This needs to be done, you can’t stop me.” 

Carlos swallowed, but took care to keep his expression even, “Why does it need to be done?”

The man scowled at him, “No questions. Just, keep quiet until I figure out what to do with you.” 

Carlos nodded, and the room lapsed into silence. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this that didn’t involve a bullet in his head. He didn’t know if this man would actually use that gun he had pointed at Carlos, but it was safer to assume that he would - which took all plans of action off the table. Trying to talk him down would be his best bet, but he was still too on edge from the unexpected appearance of Carlos to start pressing his luck by breaking his mandated silence so soon. 

They stood at an impasse, silently staring each other down until the sound of Carlos’s radio sliced through the heavy silence. 

His radio beeped and Mya’s voice broke the tense silence, “I just finished my sweep, a whole lot of nothing - again. I’m heading back to the entrance - you done yet?”

Carlos didn’t move. He maintained his eye contact with the strange man, and spoke slowly, “That’s my partner; she’s wondering where I am. If she doesn’t hear from me she’s going to start looking and then you’ll have two of us messing up your plans. Can I respond to her?”

“Tell her to leave.” 

“Okay, I’m reaching for my radio to do that,” Carlos slowly lowered his right hand to reach for his radio, heart hammering in his chest. He switched it on and responded, taking care to make sure that his voice was even, “Negative Officer Esquilin, proceed to the next location without me.” 

He released the button and took a deep breath. He desperately hoped that she would be able to read between the lines. Somewhere between the formality and the fact that there was no next location, he had faith she’d figure it out. She was smarter than he was, after all.

When her response came, it was much more clipped than usual, “Please confirm last transmission Officer Reyes, you will be staying on scene?” 

“Affirmative, Officer Esquilin.” 

“Has there been any progress on our current objective?” 

Carlos looked back up at the man in front of him, “Affirmative.” 

There was a pause, a several second delay before Mya spoke again. When she did, she had dropped the pretense, “Carlos Reyes, you do not get to do something stupid without me.” 

“Just get out of here, please.” 

“I am not going anywhere! If you think for one second I am going to leave you behind you have clearly not been paying attention!”

The man in front of him put out his hand, “that’s enough, hand it over.” 

Carlos clenched his radio one more time, “I’m sorry, Mya.” 

Then he unstrapped his radio and tossed it to the other man. Even as it sailed across the room, he could still hear Mya’s voice coming through it, calling him all sorts of things. Her words were jumbled, but heavy with fear. 

“Reyes if you die on me I swear to god I’m going to—“ 

Whatever threat she was making was cut off by a foot smashing his radio. 

“I can’t have all that noise,” the other man said irritability, “I have to focus.” 

He slid the duffel bag off his shoulder onto the ground between them. He slid down the zipper and pulled it open, revealing a mess of wires and mechanics that Carlos could only assume was a bomb. 

Maybe it wasn’t but given how today was going, he wasn’t too hopeful. 

Well, he thought wryly as he stood in a crumbling room of an abandoned building with a gun leveled at his chest; at least he had found the bomber. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at what is happening outside as the 126 shows up and Owen is beginning to wonder who is going to give him gray hair first: TK or Carlos. So far it seems like it might be a tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is a break from the action with Carlos as we switch the see the action outside from Owen's perspective. Gotta switch things up once in a while, you know.

The 126 ladder truck pulled up at the scene of an abandoned factory to find controlled chaos. Owen Strand jumped out of the truck and looked around, trying to find someone who could tell them what was going on. All dispatch had told them was that there was an ongoing hostage situation and that their presence was required for support, just in case. 

It didn’t sound that much different from a normal day, but something about this scene, this building told him it was so much more. This location, the police presence; it was all sending him back to a day and a time a few weeks before when a bomb almost killed his son. To say this put him on edge would be an understatement. 

He looked around, hoping to find someone he could talk to, someone to give him information. Carlos would be ideal but there was no sign of him. He did spot Carlos’s partner, Mya, at the edge of the barricade and walked toward her. As he grew closer, he saw that she was in the midst of a heated conversation. 

“You want me to do what? Just wait here? That’s my partner in there, and I’m supposed to just sit here like some scared rookie?!” 

Her voice was shaking with badly suppressed rage. 

The man she was speaking to sighed, “Esquilin,” he started, but she cut him off. 

“No,” she said fiercely, “No. Find me something to do. I am going to help. End of discussion.” 

The man locked eyes with her, but she did not budge. He heaved a sigh before glancing over her shoulder to where Owen hovered. “Fine,” he relented, “why don’t you liaise with AFD so we can make sure emergency response is ready if needed.” 

She looked like she was about to argue but when she followed her superior’s gaze and found Owen, her demeanor softened. “I will. Thank you, Captain.” 

The captain waved her off and shot Owen a look that was clearly meant to say _she’s your problem now_ , but Owen didn’t have any issue with that. He walked to her side, “Mya,” he said by way of greeting, “is it…?”

An understanding borne from too many uncertain hours in a hospital waiting room prevented him from having to finish the sentence. She nodded grimly, “yeah, it’s the guy. And Carlos is with him.” 

Owen swore. Mya nodded in agreement, expression dark. Owen took a brief moment to be thankful that TK was still on medical leave - he didn't need to be here at the barricade, waiting for the worst. Owen supposed he could do that just fine for the both of them anyways. 

“How’s he doing? Do we have a line of communication established?”

She shook her head, “No. The last contact we - I - had was his radio, but the line when dead. The working theory is that the radio was destroyed, probably by the suspect.”

Owen nodded, his mind racing as he tried to process all the information; calculate all the possible outcomes. “What did you find out before you lost comms?”

“Just that he’s in there, with the suspect. We don’t know what else is happening, but it is probably safe to assume there is some sort of threat present if Carlos hasn’t already brought the guy out. What we don’t know is if he had some sort of weapon or…”

“Or if there’s another bomb,” Owen finished grimly. He sighed and ran a weary hand through his hair. He had always thought it would be TK who would give him gray hair; turns out his boyfriend was just as strong a contender. 

Mya nodded; her stoic expression slipping to show fear for the slightest moment. 

“He’s smart and one of the most level-headed people I’ve ever met,” Owen told her, “he’ll be fine.” The words were just as much to quell his own anxieties as they were Mya’s, but thankfully the did the trick. She took a deep breath and nodded, “You’re right, obviously. I’m just frustrated. I should be in there with him, he shouldn’t be alone.”

“You may not like it, but it may be better this way. If you were both in there the suspect could use you as leverage against each other.” 

Mya raised an eyebrow, “that’s a pretty logical thought for a fireman.” 

Owen let out a short laugh, “They don’t make just anyone captain, you know.”

She smiled, but the moment of levity was gone just as quickly as it had arrived. “I know you’re right,” she said eventually, “but I still hate it.” 

Owen nodded, “That’s because you’re a good partner, and an even better friend.” 

She looked sharply at him, but he simply nodded. He may not have known her long, but he had seen more than enough to know that Mya Esquilin cared deeply for people; especially her partner. He had seen it in the hours and days spent sitting by Carlos’s side as they waited for word on TK, in all the times she had dropped by to check on his son. 

She gave him a small smile before schooling her features back into the appearance of stoic professionalism. “What we need is a way to communicate. I doubt the brass is going to okay anyone heading in there to drop off a phone or radio, so we’re going to have to come up with another option.”

Owen considered their options silently, before shaking his head; “I can’t think of anything that would give us two-way communication.” He looked at Mya only to see her eyes widen.

“But I’m guessing you have.”

She nodded, letting out a short laugh, “I think I did and it’s so simple I can’t believe we never thought of it before.” Owen looked at her skeptically and she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone in response, “Carlos has his phone on him.” 

* * *

A few minutes later it had been all sorted. The hostage negotiator would call Carlos’s cell phone and they would hope that someone would answer so they could get negotiations moving. It was simple but Owen didn’t care as long as it was one step closer to getting Carlos out of there safely. The young officer might be his son’s boyfriend, and while Owen was certainly invested on TK’s behalf there was no denying that he was fond of the young officer as well. They had spent more time together in the past few weeks than ever before and while Carlos’s obvious love for his son was more than enough to win him over, there was so much more that had endeared him to Owen. It had been no time at all before Owen realized that he had come to see Carlos Reyes as a second son. 

(Of course, he knew it was likely only a matter of time before the boy joined the family more formally, but as far as Owen was concerned it was a done deal.) 

Mya chose to stay by the hostage negotiator to listen in but promised to update Owen as any new information came in. He nodded his thanks and looked over towards the ladder truck, where the rest of his crew was gathered. He needed to tell them. Carlos might wear a different uniform but he was absolutely still a member of their team. Between his friendship with Michelle, his relationship with TK, and just being who he was, Carlos Reyes had made himself just as much a member of the 126 as any of them who did wear it on their helmets. If anything the weeks since the attack and the endless hours immediately after had cemented that. He had waited and hoped and rejoiced with them when TK survived; he had been with them in one of their most vulnerable moments, and every moment since. They all deserved to know. 

He sighed heavily, nodded again to Mya, and crossed over towards his team.

“Cap, what do we know?” Judd asked as soon as Owen was within earshot. 

“The bomber is here, and he has a hostage. We are going to be on standby in case of any collapse, but we are not to cross the perimeter until given the go-ahead from PD.”

All eyes flicked to Marjan - the other victim of the first bomb - who had visibly paled but showed no more outward signs of being affected by the news. Owen was sure she was feeling more than she was letting on but he allowed her her privacy; she was allowed to handle her trauma in her own way. He would just make sure to keep an eye on her. 

The rest of the crew accepted his update without question, but Paul was giving him that look: “What aren’t you telling us, Cap?” 

Sometimes, Owen cursed the day he hired a human lie detector. 

But the rest of the team was now looking at him expectantly; there was no getting out of this now. He sighed, “APD was here sweeping the building. It was on a list of possible targets and they’ve been trying to get a jump on this guy. One of the officers found him, and he is now the hostage.” 

The expressions on his team’s faces told him they already knew what he was about to say, but he still had to say it: “that officer was Carlos. It’s been over an hour and there has been no communication. The last communication was to his partner on his radio before it cut off. They haven’t been able to reach him since.” 

The reaction was immediate. Judd swore loudly and the rest looked towards the building in fear. Owen understood all too well. It had only been a few weeks since they had stood in an eerily similar situation, on the outside of a dangerous situation; waiting and praying for the safe return of a teammate. Carlos had been there for the team both then, and in the aftermath.

Now they had to be there for him. 

“Carlos is smart and good at what he does. I’m confident he’ll get himself and all of us out of this in one piece. I mean c’mon,” Owen added lightly, trying to infuse some humor, “who else would you rather have trying to talk down a crazed bomber?” 

It seemed to work, because a few smiles appeared and some of the tension seemed to fade. Carlos Reyes was a smart man; he would do what he needed to do to get out of this. They were not going to watch another member of their team nearly die; it was going to be fine. 

Owen had even psyched himself up, he could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. It involved him making sure Carlos came over for dinner tonight and Owen getting a good night’s sleep knowing that his two boys were safe under his roof. It was going to be fine. 

Or it was, until a deafening _crack!_ split through the air. 

They all spun to face the building, excerpt for Owen, who turned to find Mya. She was standing at the shoulder of the negotiator, and all the color had drained from her face. He pushed his way through the crowd until he was at her side. 

“Mya?” he asked tentatively, both needing to know and dreading the confirmation. 

Her voice was shaky as she answered; never tearing her eyes off of the building before them, “that was a gunshot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a cliffhanger. We'll address that next chapter, when we get back to Carlos's perspective. 
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to leave me a comment with a theory or whatever. Also, come find me on [tumblr](https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/) and leave a comment if you've got a sec!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back inside to see how Carlos and his new friend with the bomb are doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Carlos's perspective this chapter, and a little bit back in time too.

To say today wasn’t going well would be an understatement. 

“Do I at least get to know the name of the guy who’s about to kill me with a bomb?” Carlos asked from his position on the floor. He had been directed to sit and stay where the man could see him as he worked; one hand clutching the gun, the other working methodically with the wires on the explosives in the duffel. 

He kept running through scenarios in his head; testing out different approaches, considering different outcomes. So far he kept running into the same problem: in most of the scenarios, the odds of him getting shot were too high for his liking. He just didn’t know enough about this man or the situation to make any rash decisions. For all Carlos knew this guy was the “shoot first ask questions later” type and Carlos would really love to not get shot today. He had plans later, thank you very much. 

The man glared, “you wouldn’t have to die if you hadn’t poked your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Well, if action was out; that just left talk. Fortunately, Carlos was good at talk. 

Carlos held up his hands placatingly, “Unfortunately it happened, and we’re here now and there’s nothing I can do about that. But since we’re stuck here, maybe we could chat; and that would be a lot easier if I knew your name.”

The man paused in his tinkering. He considered for a long, silent moment before he looked back to Carlos. “It’s Jared,” he said before returning his attention to the mechanics before him.

Carlos added a tick to the ‘pro’ column in his head: he had given him a name; that meant there was a possibility to build a connection. And a connection might just mean he could find a way out of this that did not end in a body bag.

“Do you want to tell me why these buildings need to be destroyed Jared?” he asked slowly. 

He was met with silence, so he tried again. “I can see you have a mission, but I’ll be honest with you Jared, none of us can quite figure out what it is. And - I could be wrong - but I thought that the point of most bombings was to deliver a message. Unfortunately, none of us have been able to figure out what yours is yet.” 

More silence. 

Carlos tried again, voice tighter with frustration, “What good is a mission if it’s private, Jared?”

The silence that met his question was louder this time. Carlos realized with a start that Jared had stopped tinkering. He seemed to be considering something. The silence stretched for several more long moments before Jared finally spoke, his raspy voice matter of fact as he said, “They need to pay.” 

Carlos blinked. That wasn’t at all what he had expected. As far as he knew, these buildings were abandoned. No used them, and if they had owners, they certainly weren’t worrying too much about upkeep. 

“Who needs to pay Jared?”

“Them, the company - Gall Corp.” 

Now Carlos frowned. That name did sound vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t remember anything specific about it. “Why do they need to pay Jared?” he asked in a measured voice. 

“Because they destroyed my life!” 

Gone was his calm demeanor; the man in front of Carlos was now filled with rage. The hand holding the screwdriver was shaking; the hand holding the gun even more so. Carlos backpedaled, looking for something to say to placate him. 

“I’m sure they did, I’m sorry,” he replied evenly, all the while watching Jared nervously. His words seemed to have the desired effect; his hands stopped shaking and he calmed ever so slightly. 

“They did,” he insisted. “They threw me out of my job, left me with nothing. Do you know what it’s like to have nothing?” 

“I don’t,” he answered honestly.

Jared nodded grimly, “if you did then maybe you’d understand.” 

Truly, Carlos mused, there was only one thing in his life that he could truly not live without, and that thing had almost been taken from him by the very many standing in front of him. Though Carlos had to admit, the nervous twitchy man before him was nothing like the villain he had been concocting in his head. 

As Jared returned his attention to the duffel, Carlos finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since the dust had settled at the last bomb, “Did you want to hurt people with your last bomb?”

Jared looked up sharply, “Why do you ask that?” 

Carlos met his gaze, studying him to gauge his reaction; “because two firefighters almost died in that explosion. They were there because someone had called in for a welfare check on some suspected squatters. No one knows for sure, but a lot of people think that maybe that was done on purpose.”

Jared blinked at him. He was quiet for a long moment before he finally shrugged, “I’m sorry those firefighters got hurt. That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t plan for anyone to be there.” 

“So you didn’t make the call?”

Jared shook his head, “No,” he insisted adamantly, “they could have gotten in the way. Everything must be perfect; they need to be destroyed.” 

Carlos studied him, “So why are you doing it again? The same thing could have happened today, or the next time. If you don’t want to hurt people, why are you still setting up bombs?” 

“I need to destroy them; they need to pay.” 

The statement was said matter of factly, Jared barely even glancing up from his work. A chill ran down Carlos’s spine. Maybe Jared wasn’t actively looking to hurt anyone, but he was not concerned by any collateral damage in the slightest. He did seem to care who got hurt, as long as he accomplished his goal. 

Which did not bode well for Carlos at the moment. 

If he wanted to get out of this alive, he was going to need to act fast. He couldn’t let this play out. He glanced at Jared, who was still working diligently on his package. What he needed was a distraction. He needed something to shift Jared’s focus just enough that he could--- 

The sound of Carlos’s phone ringing cut through the tense silence. They both startled, Jared pulling his focus from his bomb back to Carlos. 

“What is that?” he asked tensely. 

Carlos spoke slowly, making sure to keep his voice even, “That’s my phone. I’m sure there are people outside here now, and I’m sure that they want to talk to you. Will you talk to them?” 

Jared looked startled, “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” he said, “I just want to finish and go home.” 

“I can’t make any promises, but maybe if you talk to them we can work something out.” 

Jared put down his tools and stepped away from the duffel bag, walking over to Carlos. He held out his hand and Carlos placed his ringing phone in it, the screen flashing an unknown number. Jared took it, studying it as if weighing his options. Carlos let him silently consider; feeling a rush of adrenaline when he noticed that the hand holding the gun had gone lax in his concentration. 

He was distracted and the gun wasn’t pointed at Carlos’s face - if he was going to act, now was the time. 

He lunged forward, springing up from his position on the floor without a second thought. He acted on instinct; going to tackle Jared, aiming to bring him down. Unfortunately, the other man reacted far more quickly than Carlos had anticipated. There was a deafening bang and a sudden pain that spread like fire. 

He crumbled to the ground, clutching his throbbing left arm to his chest. He had been shot; Jared had just shot him in the arm. That solitary thought and the while hot pain were all Carlos could focus on. He was dimly aware of angry words being shouted, of a steel-toed boot kicking his ribs, forcing him to turn onto his back. The ache of the kick barely registered - every fiber of his being and every nerve in his body was centered on this white-hot pain. 

Jared was still shouting, but now he was standing above Carlos; glaring down at him with fury in his eyes. Once he was sure Carlos was watching his lifted the ringing phone to show him, before throwing it to the ground and smashing it with the same boot that had assaulted his side a moment before. 

Carlos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to focus; losing his head was not going to help anything. He had already read Jared wrong once - he wouldn’t be so lucky again. He needed to pay attention; he couldn’t afford to be anything less than his best. It was the only way he might survive this (though, given recent developments, his optimism for such an outcome had significantly dwindled). 

He opened his eyes and focused back on Jared; his angry words finally piercing the haze, “You made me do this - if you had done what you were told this wouldn’t have happened!” 

Carlos cleared his throat before he spoke, willing his voice to sound stronger than he felt, “You can’t blame me for trying though, right?”

Jared did not look impressed. “Just stay here and don’t fucking move. I’ve already shot you once, don’t make me do it again - the next time, it’ll be a headshot.” 

Carlos nodded and Jared scowled at him one last time before turning on his heel and going back to the duffel of explosives.

Carlos took the opportunity to close his eyes again and will his heart into a more steady rhythm. He had sorely underestimated this guy. Carlos had thought he was skittish, easily startled, and overpowered. He had underestimated him and he had paid the price. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily on the pole behind him for support. He gently removed his arm from its protective embrace against his chest and peered at it. 

It didn’t look good, to put it plainly. 

Carlos counted himself lucky that the bullet had missed the artery. The fact that it was not an arterial bleed meant he might have hours, not minutes. Still; it was gushing blood at an alarming rate. He managed to rip a section off his uniform shirt to wind tightly around the wound in the best impersonation of a pressure bandage he could muster. Even with the tightly wound covering and his hand pressed firmly on top, blood still seeped out and ran down his arm. 

He flicked his gaze from the wound to Jared; who had returned back to his duffel. Yes, he had underestimated him. He hadn’t expected him to actually go through with shooting him. But Carlos was certain he had not read him wrong during their initial conversation. He wanted these buildings gone and he was willing to do anything to do it, but he didn’t want to kill anyone if he didn’t have to. That had to be his way out. If he could appeal to that...well, maybe he would live to see the outside of this place again. 

“You haven’t killed anyone yet Jared,” Carlos said as evenly as he could with his voice tight from pain. “But that changes today if you keep me here. If you don’t diffuse that bomb and let me walk out of here, my death will be on your conscious. Either from that bomb or from blood loss, because I’m going to be honest with you Jared; if I don’t get help for this bullet wound soon, I am not going to make it. Do you want my death on your conscious Jared? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to die?” 

Jared was quiet as he looked at the bomb, running his hands over the wires. Carlos could see his resolve wavering. He changed tactics. 

“We can find another way to destroy these buildings Jared; a way that doesn’t put so much at risk. That’s all you want right, for these buildings to be gone? Let me help you find another way.” 

The only sound in the room was the sound of their breaths and the light dripping of Carlos’s blood onto the cement below him. The makeshift bandage was completely saturated now; the blood was slowly beginning to form a puddle on the floor. He had meant what he said to Jared - this wound was not good. He had spent too many years with a paramedic for a friend to not know what fatal bloodloss looked like. He wasn’t there yet, but it was only a matter of time. 

And time isn’t something he had a lot of right now. 

“Okay,” Jared finally said. 

Carlos whipped his head up to look back at Jared, who had lowered the gun. “Okay,” he repeated, “as long as those buildings are gone, I’ll leave with you. I don’t care how it happens, I just want them gone.” 

Carlos sucked in a deep breath, hardly willing to believe his luck. “That’s great Jared,” he said evenly, “can you diffuse the bomb so I know for sure no one else will get hurt? Then we can go.” 

Jared nodded and bent over the duffel. A few moments later he straightened up. “I’m ready,” was all he said. He walked over to Carlos and handed him the gun, “Let’s go.” 

Carlos stared at him for a long moment before he shook himself. He could not believe that had actually worked, but now was not the time to dwell on that. Now was the time to get the fuck out here and that is exactly what Carlos intended to do. 

He pulled himself off the floor, groaning as he did so. He swayed as he made it to his feet; the sudden change in elevation coupled with the blood loss nearly toppling him back down. He flung out an arm to the nearby pole and steadied himself. He took measured breaths, willing his equilibrium to return. Finally, his vision stopped swimming and he straightened up. He picked up the gun Jared had dropped and checked the safety before slipping it into his belt. Then he raised his eyes to the man in question, hovering by the doorway uncertainly. 

“I’m assuming it’s a given that you’re under arrest and will be formally taken into custody as soon as we get out of here.”

Jared nodded meekly and Carlos tried to pull himself up straighter. “Ater you then,” he said drily, gesturing towards the doorway, 

Jared exited into the main hallway and Carlos followed close behind. Every step jostled his wound and sent a new wave a throbbing pain down his arm and into his body, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving forward. When they neared the doorway he gestured for Jared to stop.

“There will be police right outside that door, and they don’t know what’s going on. I need you to stay next to me, and we’re going to exit at the same time with our hands up so they know we’re unarmed, okay?” 

Jared nodded meekly and Carlos gave him a small, tight smile. Then he raised his good arm up and Jared followed suit. Then they both crossed through the doorway into the commotion. Carlos squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight after hours in a dim room, but even through his obscured gaze, he could see every eye turn to them. It was quiet for a beat before chaos broke out anew. 

There was a barricade separating where he had been from reality; on the other side was a mass of people and lights and uniforms, and his friends. He could see Michelle, her face already furrowed as she pulled together medical supplies no doubt preparing herself to take care of his wound and give him a lecture about scaring her. He could see Mya and Owen standing side by side, wearing matching expressions of worry. 

Mya placed a hand on Owen’s shoulder before moving forward with the small group of officers moving to intercept them. Their gazes met and he gave her a small smile that was returned with a scowl that let him know he was in for a talk about not scaring your partner half to death; though even from here he could see the worry and fear in every bit of her body language. 

He allowed himself to relax. They were outside, his friends were here; he had made it. 

He put down his arm and quickened his pace. He was ready to get out of here - he wouldn’t even fight Michelle on the ambulance this time. The pain from his arm was making his head fuzzy and he wanted to go home. He wanted to see his friends; he wanted to hold TK with his one working arm. 

He wanted to be the one to tell him they had got the guy; he wanted to let him know that whatever he had gone through today would be worth it if it meant that TK’s would-be murderer was facing justice. He wanted to be able to bask in the fact that they were both safe and alive.

Instead, several things happened at once. 

Carlos heard a thundering boom from behind him and saw Mya’s eyes widen a split second later. He turned to look; to see what had happened, but he never got the chance. A wall of heat hit him at the same moment as an unknown force knocked him from his feet. He crashed the ground, instinctively throwing his good arm over his head in instinct. He felt a sharp pain as his wounded arm was pinned under his body and countless smaller pains over the rest of his body. There was a ringing in his ears, and the feeling of being pelted by he knew not what. 

Then there was darkness, and he knew no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another cliffhanger. 
> 
> One chapter left! TK finally shows up in the last one too, I promise. In the meantime, come find me on [tumblr](https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone wakes up, some people are reunited, and some trauma is addressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, we made it. It's been a ride folks, I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

Carlos was having that dream again. 

It was the one that had haunted him for the past few weeks - the one where when TK was pulled out of the rubble, he didn’t wake up. It was so familiar by now that even his subconscious knew that it was a dream. Even as it was happening, there was a part of his mind whispering that this wasn’t real. 

Yet there was still a part - the larger, louder part - that didn’t listen. This part was so caught up in the horror of what he was seeing, in the absolute crushing grief of seeing TK lifeless; of knowing that he would never be able to see his smile or hear him laugh ever again, that all reason crumbled in the face of it. 

It may have been a dream, but it felt real. Every night he felt the crippling terror; sobbed real tears as he clutched the lifeless body of his boyfriend. Every night it was the same: TK was pulled out by his team, Carlos hovered over his battered and bruised body praying, begging for a miracle until Michelle shook her head sadly, and Carlos’s world shattered. Each time it was the same; the grief never grew any duller with use. It was a self-sharpening sword always ready to be plunged into his heart with unerring precision. 

Each time he would wake up, wild-eyed with panic. The best nights were those where TK was beside him and he immediately knew it had been a dream. The worst ones were the ones where there was no immediate solution, where he woke up to an empty pillow beside him and he had to do the work to remember. TK was okay; TK was alive. TK had not died in that explosion (though he had given it his best shot). 

For whatever reason though, this time was different. The script remained the same, but the images had shifted. He was looking up at TK, whose green eyes were open, and filled with tears. He wanted to wipe them away but he couldn’t move. He heard other voices - Mya, Owen, Michelle. It was too weird; he wasn’t accustomed to this dream, he wanted out. He tried to force his eyes open; screamed at his body to wake up, and nothing happened. 

The voices around him continued. They were panicked, frantic. They were a blend of the familiar and the strange. He felt as if he was floating; tethered only by a hot, burning pain. It was all a haze of noise and pain and confusion, and finally he couldn’t handle it anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and welcomed the calm, silent darkness. 

* * *

The next thing he knew, it was quiet. There were still noises, but they were manageable; comforting even. There were voices again - familiar though he could not place them. It was two voices, speaking softly to each other, before there was the sound of footsteps and only a single voice remained. He was drawn to the voice; this was someone he wanted to hear from. The words they were saying were still jumbled in his mind, but he heard his name said like a prayer, and the warm feel of a hand on his own. 

_ TK _ . It could only be TK. Carlos could feel his heart beat faster as he forced his eyes open. He blinked before turning his head towards the voice, bringing the room back into focus. When he turned his head he could see again and found TK there in all his glory: tired and rumpled, but alive. He lightly squeezed the hand holding his before trying out his voice. 

“Hey you,” he croaked quietly. 

TK’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Carlos,” he breathed, voice heavy with emotion. “Oh my god, Carlos. You’re awake.” 

Now Carlos frowned, “Why do you sound surprised?” 

TK studied him, “What do you remember Carlos?” 

Carlos frowned at him before searching his memory. He remembered kissing TK goodbye, going to work, driving with Mya to a factory to search...oh. 

The realization must have shown on his face because TK smiled sadly at him, “yeah, it’s been a long night. But you’re okay, and that’s all that matters to me.” 

“I remember leaving the factory with Jared and then something happening. What was that? What happened?”

“There was an explosion as you were leaving the factory, you got caught up in it.” 

Carlos looked at him, eyes wide, “What? What explosion? Is everyone okay?” 

TK placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as he leaned closer, “Hey Carlos, breathe. It’s okay, everyone’s okay. The only ones hurt were you and the bomber, but he’s going to be fine. You were the one we were worried about.”

Carlos took a deep breath. Everyone was fine, they were all safe. “How did the bomb go off?” he asked once his heart rate had returned to normal, “Jared disarmed it before we left, I watched him.” 

TK shrugged, “I don’t have most of those details, but from what I’ve put together over the past several hours of hearing bits and pieces; I would say your new friend may have been very good at making bombs, but not so good at defusing them. But you can ask Mya that, she should be by later.” 

There was quiet for a second before TK reached back over to grab his hand again, squeezing it gently, “You terrified me, Carlos,” he admitted softly, “My dad called and told me what happened and I rushed here but the surgery took so long and no one knew what was going to happen, and I was so scared I could lose you.”

Carlos swallowed. He was all too familiar with that fear; he had been faced with it just a few short weeks ago and he had been relieving it every night since then. He had never wanted to put TK in that position. 

“I’m sorry,” he said sadly, “I didn’t mean…” 

“Carlos Reyes,” TK cut him off sharply, “you are not apologizing for getting caught in a bomb.” 

They locked gazes for a moment and TK’s tone softened, “especially not to me. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad that you’re safe.” He gave him another smile and leaned forward to press a soft, tender kiss on his lips before settling back into his seat. 

Carlos swallowed. He couldn’t believe that any of this had happened, he couldn’t believe that their friends had gone through this trauma twice in such a short time. He couldn’t believe he had found the bomber. He couldn’t believe that he had been shot and caught in an explosion and had  _ survived _ . He looked up at TK. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he wanted to tell him, but he didn’t know where to start. 

He was saved the trouble of figuring it out by the sound of a new voice at the door: “Just so we’re all clear, in my role as a captain and a father I am establishing a new rule: neither of you is ever allowed to be anywhere near a bomb or have anything to do with a bomb ever again.”

TK rolled his eyes and Carlos looked up to find Owen standing in the doorway of his room, two coffee cups in hand. 

“It’s good to see you awake Carlos,” he continued warmly, “you had us pretty worried there for a second.” 

Carlos returned his smile, “it’s good to be awake.” 

Owen nodded and crossed the room. He placed the coffees on the table next to the bed and leaned down to pull Carlos into a tight, but gentle hug. After a moment of initial surprise, Carlos leaned into the embrace and returned it to the best of his ability. “You scared me, kid,” Owen said quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos muttered, “I really didn’t mean to.” 

They pulled apart but Owen kept a hand on Carlos’s shoulder as he peered at him intently. “I know you didn’t, but that doesn’t make me any less grateful. Though,” here he paused to glance over at TK who had been watching the whole affair with a soft grin, “I have to say that whatever this is that you two have going on - this competition to see who can give me more gray hair - I’d really appreciate if you would just call it a draw. My heart and my hair just can’t handle the stress.” 

TK shook his head at Owen as he accepted a coffee cup from him and Carlos chuckled, “would it make you feel any better if I told you we weren’t doing it on purpose?”

Owen considered, and then shook his head, “no, I don’t think it does. I appreciate the effort though. I don’t know if my hair can say the same.”

TK rolled his eyes, “You’re being ridiculous Dad.” 

Owen raised an eyebrow, “Am I though? Because personally I think you both getting caught up in explosions by the same bomber is ridiculous.” His tone was light, but the quip fell flat as they all were reminded of how lucky they all were to be sitting here together. Owen sighed and sank into the chair on the other side of the bed, running a weary hand over his face. “Can you both just  _ try _ not to scare me to death for at least a little while? An effort is all I’m looking for, really.” 

TK shook his head fondly at his father while Carlos chuckled, but their gazes met and TK squeezed his hand again. They were so lucky to be here; they were lucky to still have each other. Carlos still couldn’t believe that despite everything the universe had thrown at them they had come through it; still here, still together, still in love. 

Owen looked between them both with an expression that spoke volumes of understanding and wistfulness for a time and a person long past before speaking again, “Well, I have to be going soon so if you wouldn’t mind indulging an old man Carlos, I am really curious about what happened in there today.” 

Carlos scoffed, “Old is the last thing that comes to mind when I think of you, Captain.” 

TK groaned, “Stop, you’re making his head bigger,” he whined. 

Owen just chuckled, “Thank you son, but I am, at least compared to you two. So what do you say, are you feeling up to talking about it? It’s fine if you’re not,” he added quickly, “you’ve been through a lot and all I care about is that you are safe.” 

Carlos shrugged, frowning as he dug into the depths of his memory, “I don’t know how much there is to tell. I was searching the building, found the bomber, and tried to talk him down. I failed, got shot, and then somehow managed to get through to him. Now I’m wondering if it was all a lie because he told me he had disabled the bomb, but apparently that was not the case.” 

Owen nodded thoughtfully, “That all seems to fit with what we already know or were able to deduce from outside. When we heard that gunshot though…” Owen trailed off and looked down for a moment before looking back at Carlos with a smile that wasn’t so sure as his usual, “I’m just glad you’re okay kid.” 

Carlos smiled back at him until another squeeze of the hand joined with TK’s drew his gaze back to the other man. “Me too,” TK whispered, voice full of emotion. 

Carlos nodded, voice to thick with emotion to form recognizable words. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to get out, “I didn’t mean to scare you, either of you,” he stated, returning his gaze to Owen. 

Owen nodded reassuringly in that way that he had, “We know son, it’s okay.” 

There was silence for several moments as they all took some time to process, to rebuild their composure. 

“So do you two want to know the new nickname that Judd has for you?”

TK raised an eyebrow, “As in for us, collectively?” When Owen nodded he rolled his eyes dramatically, “I am going to give him hell.” 

Owen laughed, a real, genuine laugh that sounded foreign in the tense atmosphere. It allowed Carlos to relax a bit; this was normal. Things could be normal again. They were all here; they had that chance. As Owen proceeded to share the story of Judd and his new nickname and TK griped about nosey coworkers Carlos soaked in this slice of normal. He was so grateful he hadn’t had to leave this behind. 

* * *

Eventually, the light chatter was interrupted by the sound of someone skidding to a halt in Carlos’s doorway. They all looked over to find Mya, disheveled in her uniform, wrinkled and dusty from the day’s events, her wild curls escaping the neat bun she forced them into each day. She and Carlos studied each other as a tense silence blanketed the room. 

Owen stood up from his chair, gathering the empty coffee cups, “We should get going TK. We need to update the rest of the team and I’m sure I have paperwork to handle back at the station.” 

TK looked like he wanted to object, like the last thing he wanted to do was leave Carlos’s side right now. But as he glanced between Mya and Carlos he nodded and followed suit, leaning over to place a kiss on Carlos’s forehead. 

“I’ll be back later,” he promised before following his dad out of the room, patting Mya on the shoulder as he exited. 

As the Strands leave, Carlos studies his partner. She was the picture of tenseness; arms crossed so tightly Carlos was surprised she hadn’t strained a shoulder. She was running her eyes over him with an unreadable expression. 

“Mya,” he began, “I’m so…”

“You’re so what, Reyes?” she snapped, “So stupid? So reckless? Such a fucking martyr that you didn’t even think about how having to leave you behind would affect your partner?” 

Carlos winced, “I was going to say sorry, but yeah, all of those are true as well.” 

She scoffs, still firmly planted in the doorway, “Damn right they are. Of all the unbelievably stupid things Reyes, I swear to god. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had no choice, I was thinking that I wasn’t going to put anyone else in danger - especially you,” Carlos replied defensively. 

“That wasn’t your choice to make Carlos! Do you have any idea how scared I was? Having to leave you there, knowing that you were in danger the whole time? Hearing that gunshot and not knowing?” 

As she spoke her voice rose ever so slightly in pitch and her eyes began to glisten. Any ire that had been building in Carlos dissipated. He couldn’t be mad at his partner - not for this. He couldn’t even imagine being in that position, with her being the one in danger instead. He doubted that he would have handled it any better. 

“Mya…” he started, but she barreled on. 

“I was scared, Carlos. I was  _ terrified  _ that I was going to lose my partner. That’s not how we do things - we are not the fucking macho men on an ego trip, determine the play the hero. We are solid, we work together.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Carlos asked, an edge of frustration seeping into his tone, “Let you come in and get us both killed? From where I was sitting, it was the better option. If I was going to die, I didn’t need to bring you down with me.” 

There was silence for a moment; it echoed through the room, coating the space between them as Mya stared at him, her expression shifting. 

“You really didn’t think you were going to survive, did you?” she asked, voice so low that Carlos almost didn’t hear her. 

Carlos gave half a shrug, “Honestly, I don’t know. I knew there was a decent chance. I knew that it was a real possibility. I didn’t want it to be, but there was no way around the fact.” 

Mya shook her head at him in disbelief, her earlier anger returning to her tone when she spoke again. 

“And I was just supposed to accept that? Bullshit. I don’t need to be protected; I just need to know I can count on my partner. I need to be there for my partner. We are supposed to be a team, Carlos!”

Even as she ranted at him they both knew the truth. They both knew that there was no other way for this to have played out. From the moment he stumbled upon Jared in that room, it was just going to be him in there. As much as Mya may have wanted to be there, may have wanted to have his back there was no way it would have been possible. Not only was it completely against protocol, but Mya was too smart for that. She was not one to let her emotions cloud her judgment; she knew what needed to be done. In this case, it was exactly what she had done: get out, call for backup, help to establish the plan, hope for the best. She had done exactly what she should have, but that didn’t mean she liked it anymore. The tears forming in her eyes even as her anger faded in the face of the grim, unspoken reality between them were testament to that. 

“Mya…” he began softly, desperate to provide some comfort but unsure what to say to make any of this better. She shook her head and wiped furiously at her eyes. 

“I’m okay,” she promised, “I’m fine. Its just...today fucking sucked Carlos.” 

He chuckled lowly, “Yeah, it kind of did, didn’t it?” 

She nodded as she crossed the room, falling into the chair next to his bed, “It really did. How are you feeling, really?” 

“Honestly? Pretty good considering I’ve been shot and caught in an explosion. But that’s probably the pain meds talking.” 

Mya hummed her agreement, “I don’t doubt it. I’m not exaggerating when I say that you scared me, Carlos. I thought…” she trailed off and looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “It didn’t look good,” she allowed. 

They were straying into unfamiliar territory here. Carlos’s heart ached at the sight of his brash and stoic partner so quiet, so upset. Mya was not the emotional one in this partnership; she was the rock. Seeing her so upset did not sit well with Carlos. It wasn’t right. 

“Well, it’s good to know you have feelings after all.” he quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

She looked up from her lap to glare at him, “Fuck off Reyes,” she shot back, her tone much more like her usual than before. 

Carlos held up his good hand in defense, “I’m just saying, there’s a pool going on at the precinct, it’ll be nice to have some concrete information.” 

She responded with a roll of her eyes and a rude hand gesture, but there was a small smile playing at her lips. 

“Are you done being mad at me now,” he asked, “because I would really love some details. I have no idea what happened after I left the building with Jared.” 

“Oh you mean when you almost died in an explosion and almost gave me a heart attack?” she asked pointedly, “Actually, I don’t know who was more likely to have a cardiac event at that moment: me or your father-in-law.”

“He’s not my father-in-law.”

Mya shrugged, “he will be, give it time.” 

Carlos restrained himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “Yes Mya,” he replied, ignoring that last comment and making a concentrated effort to keep his voice even, “after that point. Now are you going to give me answers or are you going to keep trying to guilt-trip me?” 

“I am absolutely going to keep guilt-tripping you, but I can multitask.” 

He looked at her expectantly, making a gesture with his hands for her to go on. She rolled her eyes, but obliged. 

“Well, after you and your new friend made it out of the building, the bomb he had left in there went off. He swears up and down he meant to disarm it, but whether he did or not doesn’t change the facts much. But he’s cooperating and is already working with the DA on a deal. He is adamant that he has a case against this company he is against, swears that he was fired when he stumbled onto something shady in their finances and he is willing to turn that information in exchange for the demolition of the rest of their buildings and a reduced sentence.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “Do you think the DA is going to go for it?” 

Mya shrugged, “It depends on what comes of the info he gave. If he really does have evidence of money laundering like he claims then there’s a good chance. Of course, a lot of it depends on you and TK and Marwani. If any of you decide to pursue heavier charges as victims of his bombs, then that will be taken into consideration.” 

Carlos contemplated. Now that this Gall Corp was being investigated and the buildings demolished, he really didn’t think Jared was a threat to anyone. Carlos couldn’t find the resentment in himself that he had been holding onto before the start of the day, before everything. Now that there was a face and a story to this boogeyman that had haunted his dreams, he couldn’t hold him to the same standard. Jared was not a crazed lunatic; he was a sad, broken man who had been pushed to his limits and snapped. Carlos couldn’t bring himself to add to that; not without a good reason. 

There was still TK and Marjan to consider, but he had a feeling they would agree. 

From the look on Mya’s face, she knew exactly what he was thinking. She nodded and moved on, “but anyways, that about catches you up. All you’re missing now are the hours we were all waiting to make sure you weren’t going to die on us and all the paperwork I had to fill out. Is that a satisfactory enough wrap up for you?”

“It’ll do, I suppose.” 

“Brat,” Mya snorted, “by the way, that paperwork? I did it all, you owe me.”

Carlos stared incredulously. “Are you telling me that I was held at gunpoint, got shot and blown up, and you are _ still _ going to give me shit about paperwork?” 

“Yep,” Mya said breezily as she leaned back in her seat and put her feet up in the edge of the bed. 

Carlos shook his head and shoved her feet off his bed, “I’m putting in a request for a new partner,” he said dryly. 

“Good luck,” she retorted with a snort, “I’m irreplaceable.” 

  
  


* * *

They chatted for a while, but soon Mya left in pursuit of sleep and a shower. Shortly after her departure, TK returned and Carlos is treated to a rotation of visitors. There’s Michelle and the other members of the 126, there are other cops from his precinct. TK is there the entire time, never straying any further than an arm’s length from Carlos. 

Not that he would have it any other way. 

In the quiet moments they are alone they speak softly to each other, hold each other. Eventually, sleep finds Carlos again. He tries to put it off, tries to hold back the yawn because he wants to be  _ here _ , he doesn't want to waste this time. Not when they’ve been so rudely reminded that this time together is not guaranteed. But his battered body will not be denied its rest, so he drifts off to a soft kiss on his temple from TK and a whispered reassurance that he’s not going anywhere. 

He sleeps peacefully, some miraculous combination of exhaustion and pain meds gracing him with a rare dreamless sleep. Which is why he is even more confused when he wakes up to the familiar sound of someone thrashing in their sleep. He pries his eyes open and peers around; startled to find TK sleeping in the chair next to the bed, his head and arms resting on the bed at Carlos' shoulder. His face was furrowed; scrunched up in a look Carlos could only describe as anguish. He was muttering under his breath, and Carlos's heart broke. 

He knew that look, he knew those sounds. He reached over and put a gentle hand on TK’s shoulder, speaking softly, “TK? Wake up, it’s only a dream; it’s okay.”

TK bolted upright, wild eyes taking in the room, frantically searching for something. When his gaze landed on Carlos, his body stilled and his face fell into an expression of relief. “Carlos,” he started, voice thick, “I…” 

“You had a dream, didn’t you?” Carlos asked. 

TK nodded, running a shaky hand down his face, “yeah, I did. You...it was bad.” 

Carlos’s heart ached for him. He knew what he was going through, he had been going through the same thing for weeks. He never wanted TK to have to go through that; not on his behalf. He had never wanted to be the source of the suffering of someone he loved. He reached out his hand to hold TK’s. He ran his thumb softly against the back of his hand. “It’s not real,” he said softly, evenly, “I’m okay.” 

TK sighed heavily, “That’s not what it feels like.” 

Carlos hummed sympathetically, “I know.” 

TK looked up at him sharply. Carlos held his gaze and an unspoken understanding passed between them. TK let out a long breath and shook his head, eyes glistening. “You should have said something, Carlos.” 

Carlos shrugged, “You were still recovering, you didn’t need anything else to worry about. Besides, when I woke up, I saw you. As long as you were there, I was fine. As long as you’re okay, I will always be fine. Something happening to you is the worst thing I can imagine - and I don’t even have to imagine it,” he finished softly. 

TK shook his head, “We’re both here and we’re both alive - that’s what matters, nothing else. Dwelling on ‘what ifs’ is not going to do us any good.”

“I want to listen to you, I want to focus on that, but I just…” he trailed off, but TK seemed to know what he was going to say anyway because he leaned forward to press a kiss on his temple and muttered, “I know,” into his forehead. Carlos closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean into TK’s embrace. This was safe, this was home. This was everything he wanted. He would do anything to remain here in this moment with this man that he loved. 

They remained in the silent embrace for a long time before Carlos broke the silence, “Come here,” he instructed, sliding over in his bed to make more room on the edge. 

TK looked at him with raised brows, “You’ve been shot and blown up today Carlos, you do not need me squeezing into bed with you.”

Carlos waved off his concerns, “I was shot on the other side, and I’m only a little bruised. Besides, having you here will make me feel better, I promise.” 

TK shook his head fondly, “You are a menace Carlos Reyes.” But he obliged and crawled into the space beside Carlos as carefully as he could. Carlos pulled him closer with his good arm before burying his face into his neck. TK took an arm and wrapped it gently around his shoulders, careful to avoid the wounded arm. 

“We’re both here and we’re both safe,” he said quietly, “and I intend to do everything I can to make sure it stays that way. So get some sleep Carlos, I’m not going anywhere - I promise.”

Those words, that promise from the man he loved allowed Carlos to relax into the familiar embrace. He felt a soft kiss on his head as he drifted off into dreamless sleep; the first he had had in weeks. Logically he knew that there were no guarantees in life and that no one knew what tomorrow might bring. But in his heart he knew that no matter what, they would be okay - as long as they had each other. And Carlos never intended on letting go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. I am dying to know what you thought of both this and the whole thing collectively so leave me a comment if you've got a sec and receive my undying love and adoration in return. 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/) for requests and ranting of all sorts.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In regards to the references to the “last serial bomber,” I did some research and apparently Austin did actually have a serial bomber in 2018. I’m not going to further develop that or anything as I don’t want to fictionalization an actual traumatic event, but I didn’t want to ignore it either.
> 
> As always, I love hearing from you, so leave a comment if you have a second!


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